Page 97 of Luciano

In the past, that only happened when I dreamed.

Was I dreaming?

She leaned in and kissed my forehead. “Yes.”

Chapter 44

Luciano

Usually, after returning from missions orchestrated by my father, the adrenaline would fade, leaving behind a feeling I couldn’t name.

I used to think it was calm.

Now I know better.

Loneliness.

I looked up the word once, just to be sure—the absence of connection. That’s what it had been all along.

A void I had grown so used to, I mistook it for peace.

And now that I know the difference, I never want to feel that way again.

“What are you thinking about?” Ava broke into my thoughts. Her voice was soft, still lazy with sleep.

We hadn’t left the bedroom in two days. The outside world could wait. She’d spent most of the time curled beside me, barefoot in one of my T-shirts, her legs warm against mine, her hair twisted into a lazy bun she never bothered to fix.

She didn’t like the housekeeper service. Said it made her uncomfortable having strangers pick up after her. I told her it was something she’d have to get used to.

Right now, she was lying next to me, trailing her long nails over the scars hidden beneath my tattoos, pausing at the one above my ribs.

“I was thinking about how it used to feel... after a job,” I said. My voice came out low, flat. “That silence when it was over. When the blood had dried and there was no one waiting.”

Her fingers went still.

“I think I mistook it for calm,” I continued. “But it was loneliness. And now that I know the difference… I don’t ever want to feel it again.”

She reached for my hand and threaded her fingers through mine. “You won’t. I’m here.”

Before I could respond, there was a knock at the door.

One knock.

I didn’t need to ask who it was.

“My father,” I said quietly.

He didn’t wait for me to answer. “Luciano. Now,” he barked through the door.

I pressed a kiss to Ava’s temple and stood, dressing quickly. When I opened the door, he was flanked by two guards, arms crossed.

“I got Saint’s report,” he said. “I want yours.”

I nodded and led him to the study. Thirty minutes later, I gave him everything—the names, the locations, the bodies. The Russo family was no longer a problem.

“Good work,” he said simply.

We left the study. At the top of the stairs, Ava was waiting.

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